


The binding that holds us together

by FancifulRivers



Category: Death Note
Genre: Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Overdose, Suicide, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-14 08:05:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4557030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FancifulRivers/pseuds/FancifulRivers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Light doesn't know what to do when he realizes that making L happy is more important to him than continuing Kira's work. //<br/>L is lost when he realizes that Light is more important to him than the investigation. (Extremely AU in both chapters. Suicide attempt warning!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Falling Apart

**Author's Note:**

> I do not and never will own Death Note.
> 
> This is going to be a two-shot! Just not entirely set in the same alternate universe.
> 
> Also surprise, I'm uploading this to AO3 first for once.

He was supposed to be happy. The handcuffs had been removed, although he knew Ryuzaki still watched him. L still thought he was Kira, but the rest of the team didn't. His plans were proceeding perfectly, and before he knew it, L would be out of the picture for good, Rem would be unable to interfere with his plans, and Misa could either become his bride, a figurehead set up to preside over the new world, or a pawn to sacrifice for the greater good.

Perhaps that was the problem. Light bit his bottom lip, worrying at it with his teeth. He'd never met another person who could challenge him intellectually. L was  _brilliant_. With him gone, who could provide Light with a challenge?

That had to be it, Light decided, ignoring the tiny, niggling doubt that perhaps it was more than that. It couldn't be. Ryuzaki was, well,  _weird_. All he ate was sugar, he couldn't sit in a chair like a normal person, he had the worst dark circles around his eyes Light had ever seen, and besides that, he was a  _guy_. Light had never been interested in men before. Not that he was particularly interested in women either, but that could just be the natural results of prolonged contact with Misa. She was so bubble-headed, it was painful.

"Do you hear that?" L asked suddenly. Light looked up. The detective's head was tilted to one side, and the look of inexpressible longing and sadness that had spread across his face felt like a punch to the gut.

"What?" Light managed to ask.

"Bells," L said, a bit dreamily. "So loud. Are there any churches nearby? It's like a wedding-"

_Or a funeral,_  Light thought, feeling sick.

"I don't think so," he blurted out, answering Ryuzaki's question. "I need a break."

"Are you all right, Light?" L questioned. The dreaminess had evaporated, and his black eyes seemed to pierce Light's skull.

"Of course," he said, before turning and fleeing the room as quickly as he dared.

"There is an eighty percent change you are lying to me," he thought he heard L say behind him, before the elevator swallowed him up.

* * *

The walls were closing in around him. Light took a deep breath, then another, gulping for air. He felt like he was drowning. It didn't make sense. None of his reactions made any sense. Had L somehow drugged him? Was this another test?

_Of course not,_  he told himself scornfully.  _Don't be ridiculous._

Was it any more ridiculous than believing he had some sort of feelings for a cake-addicted slouching frog-like man with fingers like spiders and perpetually bare feet?

Did it make any more sense to realize that the thought of L dying made him want to throw the Death Note away forever?

If L was alive, then his ideal world was in jeopardy. He could not be found out as Kira, he would be executed or thrown into prison for the rest of his life. Nobody would understand his vision. They were too blinded by their own petty prejudices. If evil people were no longer allowed to get away with their crimes, then the rest of society could live in happiness, in safety.

_Kira does not bring justice,_  he could almost hear L say in that low monotone, dropping yet another sugar cube into his coffee. How did the man not rot his teeth out? How did he not have diabetes?

"You don't understand," he whispered to himself, so quietly any monitoring equipment would not be able to pick up on it. He couldn't remember anymore if he was talking to Ryuzaki or himself. It had all seemed so  _clear_  when he first picked up the Death Note, when he first realized that the plans trembling on the brink of his mind could actually come to fruition. It was so  _easy_. Write down the name, the criminal dies of a heart attack. A painful few minutes, but really, wasn't that better than executions? Electricity and hanging and shooting squads. Stays of execution and long criminal trials. This was better. Easier for the world. And if he damned his soul to save humanity, wasn't that something to be  _praised_?

L wouldn't think so.  _Didn't_  think so. Kira was a criminal to L. A murderer, someone to bring in and bring to justice. He would never understand Light's grand plan, he would never accept Light's vision of a perfect world. And he was too clever to put off for long. He  _had_  to die.

So why did the thought of losing L make Light feel like he was losing himself?

_I can't give myself up,_  he decided. The thought was too ignominious. The look of condemnation on Ryuzaki's face, the anger on his father's. It wasn't to be borne. But there was...another solution...

* * *

The bathroom cabinet held bottles upon bottles of pills. Painkillers, mostly. Light was prone to headaches, especially recently. The monitoring equipment would surely alert everyone else, but by then, if all went to plan, well. Light smiled.

If he couldn't tell the world that he was Kira, perhaps he could leave it in another way. Misa had her Death Note. She would continue his work. He didn't care if she was caught. If she said anything about him then, it would likely be dismissed as a murderer trying to slander her fallen lover's name. L would wonder, but he wouldn't  _know_ , not for sure. He'd still win, even if it wasn't nearly how he'd planned it.

Ryuk would say he was boring. Boring humans with their boring lives. Light didn't care.

He popped the cap off the first bottle. The pills were bitter and the dust of them lay thickly on his tongue, making it hard to swallow. That was okay. He had time. Not much, but a little.

The bathroom tiles were icy beneath him and he shifted uncomfortably, adjusting his weight as he tossed another handful of pills in his mouth. He wondered what L would think of it. Would it be an admission of guilt to the world's greatest detective? He wasn't going to leave a note. Perhaps it would be chalked up to the stress of the case. His parents would be angry if L were to voice his suspicions of Light being Kira then, he was sure. Not the right time for it- plus the grief-

There was a knock on the door of the suite.

"Light?" L's voice infiltrated the thick wood, and Light blanched. Of  _course_. He should have known. Ryuzaki and his damned predictions. He wouldn't leave Light up here for long. "Light, are you all right?"

_If I don't answer, will he go away?_  Light considered. His thoughts felt muzzy and thick, his head clouded. He crunched up more pills, the bottle sliding to the floor with a tiny clicking sound.

The door to the suite creaked open. Light had closed the bathroom door (and locked it as carefully as he could), but that wouldn't stop L.

"Light?" L's bare feet pattered closer. "Ah," Ryuzaki said, in what sounded like mild surprise. "You are in the bathroom. It would be helpful if you were to answer me, Light. Then I would know that you are there, and you are not trying to perform something Kira-related."

_You'd be surprised,_  Light thought bitterly.

"I'm here," he managed to choke out. Wrong, it was all wrong. He sounded sick, and his fingers scrabbled around the lid of the next pill bottle. He couldn't get it open. The bitterness slicked his throat like ash.

"You do not sound all right, Light," L replied and was that a note of concern? It couldn't be. L knew he was Kira. The door knob rattled. "Please unlock the door, Light."

"Can't reach it," Light muttered. He could. If he really wanted to, he could, but his arm felt too heavy to lift anyway and besides, the longer it took for L to break his way in there, the higher the chance that L would finally win.

"Light, what have you done?" Ryuzaki murmured, just loud enough for Light to hear him through the door.

_Saved you,_  he thought, but couldn't say. He was surprised at how fast the pills worked. Surely there should be some kind of delay. The door knob shook, the door creaking uneasily in its hinges.

"Too late," Light croaked. Darkness swallowed him.

* * *

He awoke in a hospital bed. The lights were dimmed and the window was dark. The only person there was L, crouched in a visitor's chair beside his bedside, his arms wrapped around him like he was freezing. A lollipop dangled from his fingers.

"Light, you are awake," Ryuzaki stated. A glint of happiness surfaced in the dark pools of his eyes. "I must inform the hospital staff. They were very insistent on wanting to know when you regained consciousness." He hopped up, bare feet flexing against the linoleum.

"Wait," Light husked, but he didn't know what to say.

"What is it, Light?" L questioned, coming closer, to the edge of the bed. His head tilted to one side as he studied Light.

"I just- I'm sorry," Light stammered.

"There is nothing to apologize for," L said, before retrieving the doctor.

He was lucky, that was repeated over and over. He was stupid, that was also repeated (if only by his father). The only person who said nothing at all was the one person Light longed to hear from the most. L was always there, crouched in the same plastic chair, watching him with dark-ringed eyes, but he said nothing, and Light was too proud to speak first. It was the only refuge he had, in his weakness.

He was released from the hospital on sufferance. Someone had spoken for him, vouched for his physical safety, if not his mental well-being. Light had no idea who it had been, but he was more relieved than he cared to admit when L wheeled him into a new suite. He never wanted to see his old rooms again, never wanted to sit on that chilled bathroom tile with pill dust collecting on his tongue, ground between his teeth.

He spent two days there, still logy with sedatives, before the handcuffs came out again.

"A precaution, Light," was all that L would say, but shame burnt in Light's cheeks, flushing his skin raw and red. He could not be trusted to be alone. Kira. The god of a new world, the only safety the populace needed- handcuffed to a slouchy boy with prehensile toes and baggy jeans, who looked like he never slept and kept offering him too many sweets. The detective who was supposed to be his downfall.

"Take me out of here," he said on impulse one day. L had been tapping away at his laptop, a popsicle dripping down the back of his wrist. He looked up and nodded, dark eyes blank.

They went walking, somehow ending up on the roof. The sun was bright, making Light squint. L had to be burning his feet on the scorching surface of the roof, but he said nothing.

"Why did you try to kill yourself, Light?" L broke the silence. There was no condemnation, only a mild sort of curiosity.

"I-" the words lodged in Light's throat. He hadn't planned for this part. All of his contingencies had hinged on him succeeding, he had no idea what to do now that he had  _failed_.

"Yes, Light?" Ryuzaki asked. A mild breeze ruffled his hair.

"It seemed the appropriate route to take," he finally chose to say, picking his way through the minefield the conversation had just become.  _You see, I'm Kira, and the thought of you dying made me want to off myself, since I have no doubt you do not share my feelings, whatever those feelings actually are._

"Why?" L persisted. His hands jammed in his pockets, he leaned forward, strangely intent. Light looked away.

"I had my reasons," he said. They piled up in his chest, lodging at the base of his throat. This had been a bad idea. He couldn't tell L anything more, and they would not remain unobserved on the rooftop for very long. Telling L the truth about his being Kira would be an act worse than suicide.

"Were they important reasons, Kira?" L asked, and Light's mouth dropped open.

"You were delirious in the hospital sometimes," L added, propping up his bottom lip with his thumb. "It required no extraordinary deduction. There is only one thing that I do not understand, Kira." He crowded Light, pushing him toward the door, but still out of reach from the surveillance cameras.

"W-what?" Light stuttered. He knew that he should decry the claims of him being Kira, point out that delirium was not a confession. He couldn't.

"Why would Kira want to kill himself, when everything was working in his favor?" L mused. "I knew there was at least a ninety percent chance that you were Kira regardless, but the rest of the investigative team was fooled. I am sure that Light is smart enough to have thought a way out of any binds coming up. Why turn to suicide, Kira?"

"Please stop calling me that," Light whispered. He could feel his cheeks flush with heat.

"As you wish, Light," L said, but didn't back away. "Please answer the question."

"Perhaps Kira realized that there was something he appreciated more than he realized, more than his vision for a perfect world," Light equivocated. "Perhaps Kira realized that it was wro-" He broke off.  _That_  he could not say, and would not say. Even if he knew there was a higher than average probability that it was true. He didn't want to confront that thought. L was enough for now. L would not approve. L did not approve. Kira was not justice, not to L, and that had to be enough.

"I should tell the others," L's monotone reached his ears. Panic roared in his ears, made his hands shake.

"But I won't," continued the detective and Light stopped short.

"Give me the Death Note," L commanded. "I will hide it for you. If Kira ever kills again, I will turn you over to the authorities. I  _should_  turn you over anyway. You have murdered thousands of people. Their blood is on your hands."

"I know," Light whispered. He wasn't sorry for that, not yet. He would be, after L showed him what had happened to the families of those he had killed, to the weeping children and grieving spouses. The Death Note was tidy and impersonal. Real life was messy.

"You will," L said calmly. He leaned forward and kissed Light on the lips, so briefly he almost missed it. His lips tasted like candy.


	2. Coming Undone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't intended to be in the same world as the first chapter, but it is AU, so. Here you go? Suicide attempt warning.

He was supposed to be happy.

L tapped his bottom lip with his thumb, crouching in his chair and looking at the serial killer on the other side of the handcuff chain. Light Yagami bent over his computer, fingers moving over the keyboard in a blur. He was also undoubtedly Kira, and L had almost found enough physical evidence to snap the trap shut.

He should have been thrilled. This had been an exhausting, painful case, made more tedious by the necessity of keeping such a close watch on his primary suspect. Staying six feet away from someone at all times was mind-bendingly dull, and even their constant battle of wits couldn't make up for it. Not to mention the constant strain of keeping his guard up- he couldn't let classified information slip in front of Light, couldn't let Kira use anything else to his advantage.

He should have been feeling just as exhilarated as he had on his previous cases, when he'd realized that they were drawing to a close, that justice would be served. Instead, he just felt exhausted. And a bit sad. It was baffling, he considered as he stacked empty coffee creamer cups on the table. The handcuff chain made a musical jingling sound as he did. Light Yagami had been his first friend, but friendship did not count for much when you were a murderer.

Light Yagami might also be more than a friend, but L was positive that was one-sided and regardless, it did not matter. You never let personal feelings interfere with a case. Letting your own biases overwhelm you was not serving justice.

And yet... L sighed, reaching for another chocolate to nibble on. Light was beautiful. His body was well-developed and he certainly knew how to display it to his advantage. He'd proven that with how often Misa tried to throw herself at him. L looked down at himself. He was assuredly not beautiful or handsome, and he never worn anything but a baggy, long-sleeved shirt and blue jeans. He supposed he wasn't hideous, but the dark circles under his eyes certainly didn't improve matters, nor did how spindly his fingers were, or how hunched his body was, in an effort to improve his detective performance.

In another world, would he and Light have been lovers? Pointless to speculate now, he knew. Light was a murderer, even if nobody else believed him (yet). He had never been emotionally entangled with a suspect before and he would not start now. When Light was proven to be Kira, it would be painful, but he could handle that. He could handle traumatic things.

L sighed again, feeling his back cramp as he reached for another plate of sweets.

"Are you all right, Ryuzaki?" Light asked, twisting around in his seat, his face the perfect picture of concern.

"Yes, Light," L replied in his customary monotone. Everything must be kept the same.

_I am biased..._

Perhaps he was biased, but he would never let that influence the outcome of the case.

* * *

Light was in the shower.

It was the one time that L reluctantly took off the handcuffs. There were cameras surveying him from every angle, but there was always the risk. Normally, L stayed in there with him regardless, eyes watching every movement. It was not because he was a pervert, like Misa might have accused. Kira didn't seem able to act with direct witnesses. Not that he let his guard down.

This time, L left it up to Watari to keep watch.

His judgment was becoming more and more impaired, and it could not be allowed to continue. He had backed up his data in multiple places, and it all pointed to one inescapable conclusion. Light Yagami  _was_  Kira, and L couldn't stand it.

For the first time, his thoughts drifted toward suicide. Crouched in his chair, thumb nestled in the space between his teeth and his bottom lip, L considered it. It was giving up, and he hated to lose. But if he died, the rest of the world need never know. Near or Mello would be brought in. They wouldn't fall prey to Light's blandishments, they would survey L's data, and they would come to the correct conclusions. Light would be imprisoned or executed, and the world would assume that L still lived on. That was the  _point_  of L. It was a brand name, not a person.

"It would be foolish," L spoke aloud, but his hands couldn't stop reaching for a folding knife, snapping it open with a distinct  _snick_. For a moment, he wondered if Kira was controlling him at this very moment. Had it been written in the Death Note? Was Light aware of his morbid thoughts, laughing at the thought of his rival's demise by suicide of all things?

Perhaps it was, but if it was, L couldn't stop himself. He didn't know how Kira would have been able to acquire his name, but surely it was child's play for a mass murderer anyway. The edge of the knife looked wickedly sharp and he pushed his shirt sleeve up, exposing the pale skin of his inner forearm.

_This has a fifty-four percent chance of not working,_  his mind informed him.  _You will be found before you bleed out._

He slashed the edge of the knife down the pale blue tracery of veins anyway. Blood gushed out, startlingly bright, and he fell back, his body suddenly lax. He was dimly aware that the sound of the shower had stopped. Would Kira come out to gloat?

"L!" Light shouted, and L blinked in confusion, because there was raw panic in Light's voice, and surely if he were Kira, that should be triumph?

_You've won, Kira,_  he tried to say, but his tongue wouldn't work. Nothing worked and L finally took a deep breath and waited for death to claim him.

* * *

If this was the afterlife, it was a pretty poor joke, L thought when he opened his eyes and he was in a hospital bed. His arm was wrapped in so many bandages he couldn't even bend it. Light was fast asleep in a chair beside him, and Watari sat by the door. When L stirred and glanced over, there was unmistakable relief in his mentor's eyes.

"You're all right," Light whispered, and L didn't say anything. It was enough that Light believed it, that he was there despite the lack of handcuffs to bind them together. He couldn't conceal his surprise that his primary Kira suspect hadn't booked it, hadn't fled for his family home or another place he could claim as refuge. Nobody would have blamed him. The world's three greatest detectives rolled up into one was a lunatic, and his mind was breaking, cracking around the edges until there was nothing left.

"I'm not going to leave you," Light told him, but L knew there was a forty-seven point two percent chance he was lying.

"Kira," L breathed, just low enough that only Light could hear him, not Watari, not the nurses and doctors starting to bustle into the room. Light's face went white, then blazing spots of color breathed fire into his cheekbones. He didn't argue though, merely stepped aside for the medical personnel to do their job. If he had had the breath for it, L would have laughed.

Recovery was painful. Healing was slow. He would always have a scar, trailing up his arm, just to the crook of his elbow. The doctor told him that it was a miracle he wouldn't have nerve damage. He did laugh then, a bitter echo that made the man's eyebrows scrunch and another psychiatrist come to talk to him. They couldn't keep him though. He was  _L_.

When he returned to the skyscraper, Watari did keep him from working, though.

"You need to rest," the only person he'd ever deemed a father figure said, and of course, he obeyed. Resting left his mind too prone to wandering, however, and it wasn't like he could sleep. His insomnia was worse than it had ever been, and he curled up on his side under the covers, knees drawn to his chest and arm flung away, still unwieldy with bandages and the slow, maddening itch of healing tissue. He didn't understand why Light huddled in the chair next to him. The handcuffs were gone, but the chain was unbreaking.

* * *

"Let's go out," Light suggested one day. L looked up, listless, from his crouch. The television was on, but he hadn't been watching it. He was too lost in his own thoughts.

"Where?" L asked dully.

"You'll see," Light replied. The investigation had been put on unofficial hold while L recovered from his "mishap," as Watari had so tactfully phrased it. It was still ongoing, but slower, with proper breaks during the day. L was allowed to assist, but only for a few hours, and it was maddening.

He let himself be guided, with Light's hand on his elbow, shoulders hunched in, and sneakers grudgingly laced onto his feet. The sunlight was harsh, overwhelmingly bright, and he had to squint his eyes against the glare. It took a moment to realize they were headed in the direction of L's favorite sweets shop.

"Where are we going?" he asked anyway, but Light shook his head.

"You know," he replied, and L supposed he did.

The shop was blessedly dim after the unrelenting sunlight in the street, and Light guided him to a table in the corner, settling him down on the bench. His legs dangled, feet brushing the floor. It felt wrong, his mind slogging through reasoning processes as if through heavy syrup, but he couldn't make himself crouch.

Light returned, holding a massive banana split. Looking at it, L couldn't help but drool a bit, tucking his thumb into the corner of his mouth.  _He probably drugged it,_  his reasoning said, but he dipped a plastic spoon into it anyway. He'd wanted to die, hadn't he? Dying by dessert was a far more pleasant way to go than his previous choice of method.

"I'm not trying to kill you," Light said in exasperation, licking at his own ice cream cone. It was plain vanilla and looking at it, L almost felt like he could sum up what was wrong with the both of them, simply by their preferred style of sweets.  _How melancholy eats at one,_  he thought and ate another spoonful of chocolate ice cream.

The sweets store, ice cream counter on one end and candy counter on the other, was busier than L expected at that time of day. People trailed in and out, but few stopped to sit down. For the moment at least, the two were relatively alone.

"Can I ask you something?" Light finally blurted, licking a melting trail of ice cream just before it reached his hand. L nodded equitably, stuffing both cheeks like a chipmunk with ice cream and chocolate syrup. "Why did you-"

"Try to kill myself?" L finished, swallowing his sugar-laden spoonful with alacrity. "That depends, Light-kun. Why do you think I did?"

"I don't know," Light whispered.

"I have proof you're Kira," L informed Light calmly, ignoring the look of shock in the other man's eyes. "I know that you are Kira. Do you wonder why I have not yet turned you in? You were- are- my first friend, Light-kun."

"I'm not Kira," Light murmured, but his response was on autopilot, and they both knew it. Ice cream dripped, forgotten, down the side of Light's wrist.

"I realized that my emotions for you were interfering with the case, therefore I sought to remove myself from the case by whatever means necessary," L droned, taking refuge in the monotone. He finally used the spoon to break off a chunk of the banana, swirling it liberally in chocolate and whipped cream, before subjecting it to a taste test.

"But suicide," Light protested. "L, I don't- I don't want you to die."

"It wasn't intended to be about what you wanted," L replied, as if he hadn't wondered that night if it was Kira prodding him on to do it. "It failed to accomplish the purported objective, anyway. I should turn over the investigation to someone unconnected to it, so that you may be caught, and Kira imprisoned."

"But you haven't," Light said, carefully licking up every trace of his ice cream, as if it held the secret to his ability to still walk around free. "Why not?"

"My emotions are still clouding my judgment," L admitted. Without even realizing it, he'd tucked his feet up underneath him, wrapping his free arm around his knees for support. It concentrated his thoughts marvelously. "I suppose I'm not quite ready. But I-"

He didn't get a chance to complete his sentence, for Light bolted up from his seat, spun L back from his half-finished banana split, and kissed him. His mouth was vanilla sweet and his lips surprisingly soft, L noted in the back of his mind with a hum of surprise.

"I'll stop," Light whispered in L's ear when he broke off, his breathing ragged. "I'll give it to you, I'll never use it again, I'll never hurt another person again, if you never hurt yourself again, L, I..."

"You are incriminating yourself," L reminded him mildly, snagging another spoonful of ice cream. "But I suppose that perhaps this will be a satisfactory conclusion. As long as you never touch the Death Note again. It will take some finagling with the evidence I have accumulated so far, but..."

"You won't regret it," Light promised, and then they were kissing again, L dripping syrup on Light's shirt. He wasn't sure of the veracity behind Kira's words but then again, perhaps he didn't need to be.

Not for now anyway, and he had had more than enough of waiting for tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked them both!


End file.
